If I Fell│John Lennon/Beatles FanFiction

Chapter 72 - 20.Aug.1966 - 22.Aug.1966

Chapter 72

August 20, 1966 

The sun wasn't up, and it wouldn't be for hours, but I was waiting for John's phone call, waiting for him to check in after their show, to let me know that they made it safely out of that night's venue. He'd promised to ring by now, but the phone remained silent.

As I waited, I stared at the yellow pill gripped between my trembling fingers. And then I looked at the note clenched in my other hand. My stomach constricted as I crossed and uncrossed my legs.

I shouldn't have opened the damned envelope. I knew better. I should've just torn it up.

But the boys had performed in Memphis hours before, and the headlines leading up to their stay in Tennessee told stories of threats, bomb scares, and local preachers planning to stage rallies outside the concert venue. So I was already a bit out of my mind with worry when I'd found the note in another stack of fan mail I was sorting to distract myself while waiting for John's call.

It looked just like the others.

No postage. No return address. Blank other than my name.

Olivia.

My spine quivered like it did each time I'd gotten a note. But unlike the last time, I ripped this note open and read it, not able to control my actions.

I know what he did.

I know he lied.

And I'll tell you what I know.

But everything I tell you needs to be kept between us.

Do you promise not to tell?

Since opening the note, I hadn't been able to put it down. I kept reading the words over and over again, my head dizzy and my limbs heavy. And all I could think about was wanting out of my overly anxious mind...I needed relief because what I was feeling wasn't normal.

Since John left, it seemed like I hadn't been able to take a full breath. My eyes were glued to every news report each night as Maggie cooed on the floor in front of me, and I phoned Brian's office daily to get updates on the boys.

And every time John rang late at night, he was always reassuring in his own John way, and I tried my best to help soothe him, but it was impossible to ignore the exhaustion in his voice.

He'd apologized for the Jesus comment during an interview at the beginning of the tour, albeit reluctantly, because it really wasn't John's style to apologize for something he meant. But Brian and Tony Barrow thought it best, and John eventually agreed...because he wasn't the only one being threatened. So, the boys had adorned dark suits, plain shirts, and conservative neckties, combed their hair and sat down with a small group of journalists upon their arrival in America. From the clips shown on television, I was sure I'd never seen John so subdued, so nervous, and so frustrated all at the same time.

But I couldn't manage my constant worrying anymore...I'd had to deal with it long enough and it wasn't easing up. I was just so bloody nervous John might not come home, and while I damn well knew I was being silly, I couldn't stop. But instead of letting myself spiral downward like I had before, I did what I'd found nearly impossible to do in the past without someone—usually John—pushing me. Five days after the boys left for America, I forced myself to see a doctor.

It had been practically impossible to drag myself to the appointment, but once there, the doctor assured me it was common for a new mother to worry, especially after an abnormal birthing experience, and that there was no need to suffer through the feeling. He wrote a script and was confident that the little yellow pill he prescribed would help just like it had helped lots of mothers before me. They would help calm me down, settle my nerves, and might even help me sleep.